


F is for France

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Around the World in 26 Days [6]
Category: Hogan's Heroes, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, older spies helping younger spies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 08:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11180928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which Napoleon and Illya learn that, sometimes, young spies have to get a bit of help from old spies.





	F is for France

Fleeing from THRUSH seemed to be a constant all over the world—from New York to Sydney, and everywhere in between. Paris was no exception. Napoleon and Illya’s first attempt to elude their pursuers was in a cab through the Parisian traffic. Success was limited; they managed to snatch a lead, but it wasn’t going to last long.

It was Napoleon’s knack of striking up friendships with hotel and restaurant owners and staff that had ended up saving them again; as they passed by a small but quaint little place called _Maison de Frère-Loup_ , Napoleon beckoned Illya to follow through the front door.

“Please tell me you know the owner,” Illya said, as he glanced behind them to see if they were still maintaining their lead.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Napoleon said, taking Illya by the arm as he passed by the man at the front, who immediately began to chide Napoleon for not having a reservation. Napoleon ignored him, instead seeing the attention of an older man in a tuxedo, wearing a green, sequined bow tie.

“Napoleon Solo?” the man inquired.

“Peter!” Napoleon sighed. “We need your help.”

Illya blinked in surprise, not expecting an East End English accent.

“He’s the owner?” the Russian inquired.

“Not likely, Chum; I’m the entertainment,” the man said. He looked to Napoleon. “Gotten yourself in a mite of trouble, ‘ave you?”

“You could say that,” Napoleon said, with a wan smile. “This is Illya, Peter; he’s with me. Think you and Louis can help us lie low for a while?”

“Right this way, Gentlemen; Louis will tend to your needs,” Peter said, leading them to the kitchens. There was another older man who was helping with the cooking, but left the work to one of the other chefs as he noticed Napoleon.

“Napoléon?” he asked, pronouncing it the French way. “You look flustered. What brings you here?”

“Trouble this time,” Napoleon said, shaking Louis’s hand by way of greeting. “This is Illya, my partner. The two of us have been pursued by THRUSH for a while now—you’ve heard me mention them before?”

“ _Oui_ , of course.”

“Then you understand that we’re desperate to shake them off. Think you can help us hide?”

“We can do better than that,” Louis insisted. He pressed a switch, and one of the walls suddenly moved to reveal a hidden passageway. “This will lead you to a small tunnel running parallel to the cellar; the end will take you to the Metro.”

“A restaurant with an escape tunnel?” Illya queried.

“ _Oui_ ; Pierre and I both thought it prudent.”

Napoleon and Illya both stared in quiet amazement, glancing from the tunnel to the two older men.

“You, ah… This isn’t the first time you’ve done this,” Napoleon realized.

“Well, it’s the first time we’ve ‘ad to use the ruddy thing ‘ere,” Peter said, with a shrug. “Sort of expected to use it for ourselves, not two younger blokes, eh, Louis?”

Louis smirked, first at Peter, and then at Napoleon and Illya.

“Napoléon, surely you knew that this line of work goes back a long time?” Louis asked. “Now, go; the tunnel is useful only if you have made it far enough before your pursuers get here.”

“Will you be alright?” Illya asked.

“We can ‘andle this just fine,” Peter said, with a roll of his eyes. “We’re not strangers to it, Chum. ‘ow else did you think we made it this far?”

“Go, _mes amis_ ,” Louis instructed. “Go and be successful in what you do. And then you, too, can pass on your wisdom to the younger generations in our trade.”

The younger duo thanked the older duo and darted down the tunnel, which was closed up after them.

“Napoleon… Did you know…?”

“That they were retired spies? Absolutely not,” Napoleon replied, sounding flabbergasted. “It’s like I told you once before; I try to strike up a good rapport with restaurant and hotel folk, and I met these two guys on my first mission in Paris. …Never once occurred to me that they’d know exactly where I was coming from.”

“So is that our fate, then?” Illya mused. “To retire and go into some business for ourselves, and help out any young crusaders that cross our paths?” 

“Doesn’t really sound that bad, does it?”

“…Perhaps not.”

They soon emerged from the tunnel and were on the metro, the both of them determined to thank Louis and Peter the next chance they got—as well as ask for some stories, were they able to divulge them.

They glanced at each other and smiled, silently hoping that they, too, would get the chance to share their own stories in the future.


End file.
